


The End of All Roads

by misura



Category: Crusade
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fifth year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of All Roads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



> prompt: _Gideon/Galen, Journey's end ... finding the cure to the plague_

[year 5, day 1]

 

"Earthforce. The Alliance. Earth. You. My crew," Gideon says.

Galen says nothing. He looks ... solemn. Grave. So pretty much the same as usual, really.

There have been times when Gideon wished for a little more emotion, a little more humanity. This isn't one of them, he thinks. Solemn and grave will fit this occasion just fine.

"So," he goes on. "Your turn. Who do _you_ serve? And who do _you_ trust?"

Galen smiles faintly. Gideon wonders if he's really so obvious about what he's thinking, or if Galen's powers include telepathy.

"Well, there's you, and then there's - let me think for a moment. No, sorry. It's just you."

 _'Don't trust Galen.'_ Except that Gideon isn't the kind of man who distrusts people who keep saving his life. He knows things aren't always as they appear, but, well, how many ways are there to interpret saving someone's life? Of Galen always showing up when they need him most?

"You know I can't keep on looking for a cure." He made the right call when he took the bet, Gideon thinks. Four years of unrestricted access to all known corners of the universe, instead of five years of needing to negotiate for landing rights on every planet. Easy choice.

Hard bargain, even so. "Yes," Galen says. "Most unfortunate."

"So I want _you_ to do it in my place," Gideon says. It's logical, the least imperfect solution. "You've got a ship, you'll have access to any information the Rangers come up with, any resources you may need." He'll talk to someone, make it so. Assuming anyone's still willing to talk to him.

" _Anything_ I need?" Galen asks, one eyebrow arched in a show of either polite doubt or idle curiosity. If Galen's ever needed anything other than what he's got already, Gideon hasn't noticed.

Gideon spreads his hands. "You name it, I'll do whatever I can to make sure you get it." Some welcome distraction from his duty, from the knowledge that in the end, he's let down an entire planet.

"I see." Galen looks thoughtful. "Well, there is one thing, actually, now that you mention it."

"Great," Gideon says. He's _tried_. He doesn't think there's anyone out there who doesn't know that, who can look at the record of these past four years and find fault. "What is it?"

"This," Galen says, and kisses him. It's quick and soft and so completely chaste it could have been another way of saying 'goodbye', except that Gideon knows damn well Galen doesn't go around kissing people by way of saying 'goodbye'. "Oh, and I'll be taking Dureena. Not like you've got a use for her here, anyway."

"Yeah," Gideon says, wondering if he looks as idiotic as he feels. "Good idea."

 

[year 5, day 94]

There's not a lot to do, the first few months. People are scared, yes, but not yet stupid. They'll get there, Gideon knows. It's only a matter of time. He's seen it happen on his own ship. He had solid people at his back then; he'll have them again now. The only difference will be that this time, punching someone in the face and then letting them cool off in the brig isn't going to fix the problem.

 _'Every technomage knows the fourteen words to make someone fall in love.'_

Trusting Galen isn't hard. Almost a habit by now, really. The kiss hasn't really changed that. So Galen's kissed him, so what? Doesn't make the man untrustworthy all of a sudden.

Doesn't make him any easier to understand, either, or less annoying when he's not there.

"He'll let us know when he's found something, all right?" Gideon snaps, before he remembers who he's talking to. "I mean, with all due respect, general, but what do you expect him to do?"

"We're all aware of the deadline here, Gideon." General MacKenzie sighs. "You say he's looking, that's good enough for me. But the people down there, they don't need to hear we're still looking for a cure. They need hope."

There's not even a hint of reproof in the general's voice. Gideon wills himself to draw strength from that, to stop going over the past four years again and again, looking for a mistake. It doesn't work.

"I understand, sir."

It's not reasonable to expect Galen to pull off in less than a year what Gideon hasn't been able to pull off in four. Not reasonable to expect Galen to do Gideon's job for him. Not reasonable to _hope_ , against all logic.

It's not human to stop hoping.

 _'Don't trust Galen.'_

Gideon tells himself it's very human to doubt, though. "I'm sure we'll hear something from him and Dureena soon."

 

[year 5, day 217]

"Let's face it: he's not going to come back."

Eilerson is the first one who says it, even if he's probably not the first one to _think_ it. Gideon's been almost waiting for it, waiting for someone to vent some anger on. He should be glad it's Eilerson; man's got an ego the size of several small galaxies. Nothing Gideon says to him will make any kind of lasting impact.

Instead, he mostly feels tired. "And why, exactly, _should_ he, Mr. Eilerson?"

Gideon's glad to see _that_ question gets him quite a few surprised looks. Good to know people are still thinking around here, still _feeling_. He just hopes Galen's worth it.

Eilerson flushes slightly. "Well, because ... because." Gideon waits, makes a show of waiting. "He promised, didn't he?"

"Actually, no, he didn't," Gideon says. "Do I _want_ him to get back here with a cute for the plague? Yes, absolutely. Do I _count_ on it? No, not really." He's lied in meetings before, mostly to keep the apocalypse box the secret he knows it must be.

With or without the cure, Galen's coming back. To Gideon.

"The Alliance is doing what it can. Our best medical people are working day and night on finding a cure," Gideon says, not caring that he's only parroting the propaganda, the newscasters whose job it is to keep everyone calm and under control. It's the truth, or something close enough to it. "We'll beat this thing."

Eilerson opens his mouth, closes it again. Gets up and walks out of the room.

Gideon would have prefered him to stay and argue, to say out loud the things they're all thinking, the things they're all afraid of. It's much harder to argue with someone who's not there.

 

[year 5, day 302]

Gideon begins to dream about Galen kissing him. It starts as a simple replay of the way it actually happened, but slowly, bit by bit, things change. Small things, at first - the feeling of Galen's hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer. Then bigger things, until Gideon finds himself pressing Galen up against a wall, kissing him the way you should kiss someone you want to have sex with, and when he looks at Galen's face, Gideon finds himself thinking: _'okay, so this is what Galen looks like when he's excited'_.

When he wakes up, he half-expects Galen to be there, watching him. Instead, his cabin's as cold and empty as it's been for the past ten months.

A man would be driven to despair by less. "Where's Galen?" Gideon asks the one person who might actually know, other than Dureena, who's as out of reach as Galen is. "Where?"

 _'Dead,'_ the apocalypse box tells him. _'Galen's dead. You can't trust him.'_

"Can't trust him not to get killed?" Gideon asks sharply, as if the box were a person. As if Galen has any need of someone to defend his honor.

The apocalypse box remains quiet.

 _'It lies.'_ Gideon isn't sure what kind of forces are out there that could kill Galen, but he's sure that if something'd happened to Galen, he'd know about it. Somehow, he'd know. _'Not all the time.'_

 

[year 5, day 342]

It's Christmas. Or it would be, if people weren't so busy panicking.

With thirteen days remaining, Gideon can't say he honestly blames them. He's just glad how few of them have access to the kind of transportation that will require him to shoot them.

"Sir?" Matheson looks almost afraid, and Gideon isn't sure why until Matheson adds: "We've just been hailed by Dureena. She should be here in about two hours."

Gideon manages not to ask the question Matheson clearly doesn't know the answer to. It's tempting to hope, to believe that today, of all days, they'll get a miracle. "Dureena? Not Galen?"

"Ship's his." Matheson shrugs. "Maybe he's resting?"

"Maybe," Gideon agrees. "Let me know when they get here."

If Matheson notices the 'they', he doesn't let it show. "Will do."

 

Dureena looks ... different, Gideon decides, settling on a neutral term. There's a silver implant in her left arm, near her shoulder. She's not yet wearing a technomage's robes, and Gideon finds it hard to imagine her face impassive, her manner quietly self-assured the way Galen's is.

The choices are hers, of course. "Dureena. Welcome."

She pulls something from a pocket, holds it up to the light. A data crystal. Gideon breathes in and forgets, for a few moments, to breathe out again. "We found it," she says simply.

Nobody cheers, but Gideon sees the feelings spread through the shuttle bay, sees expressions go from incredulous to hopeful to excited. His own face probably isn't that different.

"Must have been one hell of a trip," Eilerson says.

"It was," Dureena says, not sounding particularly eager to volunteer details. Gideon steps forward, ready to head off Eilerson if he presses the issue. There's a time and place for curiosity, and right now, right here isn't it. They know the most important thing: they know there's a cure for the plague. It's great news, the best news Gideon's had all year, until she adds: "Galen didn't make it. I'm sorry."

This time, Gideon doesn't even breathe in first. "When you say he 'didn't make it', do you mean - "

"He's dead," she says, looking like someone who has known and grieved for too short a time to have quite put it behind her already. "I saw him die. The Drakh - "

"I think someone should take Dureena to sickbay," Eilerson says. "Captain, why don't you make sure _that_ \- " a nod at the data crystal " - gets where it needs to be, while I take care of Dureena."

 _'You can't trust Galen.'_

"I - all right." Dureena hands him the data crystal. "But I'm fine. I _feel_ fine."

"Tell it to Doctor Chambers," Eilerson says, offering her his shoulder and walking away slowly, leaving Gideon holding the data crystal. It seems to weigh nothing at all.

 _'Can't trust him.'_

 _'It lies. Sometimes.'_

 

[epilogue]

Home is as he remembers it, seemingly unchanged by the past five years. It's a comfort, in a way, but Gideon knows it's also an illusion. Everything changes.

It's summer - the summer after what everyone's now calling the Christmas Miracle. There's a soft wind blowing from the west. Perfect weather to sit on the porch, sip some iced tea and think about nothing and nobody at all. To _forget_.

Or _not_ to forget, perhaps.

 _'Expect me when you see me.'_

"That's _my_ chair," Gideon says.

"Oh, good," Galen says, failing to get up. There's a glass of iced tea on the table next to him and a newspaper. "You're here. Finally."

Gideon sits down in his second-favorite chair. It's comfortable, but it creaks. "So. I guess you're not dead."

"Dead?" Galen looks genuinely surprised. "Whyever would I want to be dead?"

Gideon sips his iced tea. It's good - not too sweet. "Can't think of any reason."

"Quite boring, I'm sure." Galen hesitates for perhaps a fraction of a second. "How is Dureena?"

"I'm too tired to beat you up for that right now," Gideon says, because he feels it needs to be said. "Some other time."

"I do seem to have a lot of that at present," Galen says, and sighs. "Very well, then. Some other time. And right now?"

"Right now," Gideon says, "I'm going to enjoy the feeling of the wind on my face."


End file.
